


Marlboro Lights

by LasciviousPeach



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Human Disaster: Dean Winchester, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LasciviousPeach/pseuds/LasciviousPeach
Summary: Castiel’s straight roommate drinks too much, smokes too much, and sleeps around too much - and Castiel is accidentally, irrevocably in love with him.





	Marlboro Lights

**Author's Note:**

> idk how I feel about this one, but I was in dire need of something to post, so alas. 
> 
> Love it? Hate it? Let me know.

All in all, Castiel considers himself lucky. He had a rough start after both of his parents died, but turned it around during college. Well, sort of. He had only gone for two semesters and then dropped out because he couldn’t comprehend being 100,000$ in debt for a bachelor’s degree in Art History. He had couch jumped his way through life for a year - crashing with friends and his siblings - until a kid he went to college with named Sam told him his brother was looking for someone to share his apartment with.

Sam’s brother, Dean, was nothing like Castiel had expected. He was thinking Dean would be an older version of Sam, and he couldn’t have been more wrong. Dean was relentless in everything he did. He gave a hundred percent at his mechanic’s job - like Sam - but unlike Sam; he gave a hundred percent at smoking, drinking, and fucking random girls from bars. He was blunt, unlike Sam, and so ridiculous that he’ll do things that make Castiel stop and wonder how the fuck he’s kept himself alive for so long. He, much like Sam, was also breathtakingly handsome. With his cropped hair, shimmering green eyes, and too many freckles to count.

Castiel had been reluctant, living with a guy he barely knew - especially given his proclivity towards finding romance with other men - but Sam had scoffed and said Dean would never judge him for being gay. He had brought it up with the man himself, two weeks into their new living arrangements, in the form of telling Dean he had a date and dropping enough pronouns for his intentions to be obvious. Dean had looked up from the bowel of ice cream in his lap with a raised eyebrow and shrugged before saying, “At least one of us is getting laid, man.”

It took Castiel two years to realize he was in love. Completely, accidentally, irrevocably in love. Which sucks ass. But as far as he knows, Dean is straight. And Castiel will do nothing to disrupt the comfortable - and cheap - living arrangements he has now. Or, so, that’s what he tells his siblings.  
He had worked the late shift tonight and stumbles home just after midnight. He’s barely keeping his eyes awake as he works the key into the door, stepping inside and locking the door shut behind him. Castiel turns to kick off his shoes and spots a pair of black high heels beside Dean’s boots. The pair he always wears when he goes out.

Castiel drops his keys into the little bowl by the door, kicks his shoes off, and rubs his eyes. Dean must have thought he worked later that night because he always tries to keep it down when Castiel is home.

And he is definitely not keeping it down. Castiel can hear the squeaking of his mattress and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall before he even rounds the corner into the kitchen. Because of the outline of the apartment, Castiel has to walk through the kitchen and by Dean’s bedroom to get to his own.

He grabs a water from the fridge before turning in the direction of his room. Dean’s door is cracked, just a little, and Castiel clenches his eyes shut tight. Fuck this man.

Castiel turns his doorknob and is about to step inside when he hears it.

“Come on Cassie,”

It’s Dean’s voice - frustrated and drenched in arousal - and Castiel can feel himself harden at the sound.

“Come on, baby girl. That’s it Cas, right there.”

Castiel swallows. This is obviously a coincidence. Her name must be Cassie or Cas, or something of the sort. And, besides, it was none of Castiel’s business. He was standing here, rock hard from the sound of Dean’s voice, and it was the cruelest invasion of privacy. He shuts his door behind him, softly, and leans his head back against it.

Fuck his life.

/

He never works on Thursdays, a preemptive measure thought of by Dean long ago to assure Cas could go drinking every Thirsty Thursday. He doesn’t want to spend the day with Dean though after hearing him last night. Even though he hadn’t meant it as Castiel, the nickname was still the same. And that taste of Dean, as small and phony as it was, was more than enough to make him remember, once more, what he would never have.  
So, instead of sleeping in and preparing for a night out drinking, he calls Gabriel and convinces him to meet for dinner. Castiel spends the evening avoiding Dean and slips out the door when he’s in the shower. He isn’t proud of the way he’s acting, but he’d much rather wait until after he speaks with Gabriel to have this conversation with Dean.

Gabriel, however, turns out to be less help than Cas had hopped. Castiel explains what happened, pours his fucking heart out across their IHOP table, and Gabriel laughs.

“Seriously?” Castiel says, “You’re supposed to give me advice, not be a giant dick.”

“I’m your older brother, it’s my job to be a giant dick. And besides, we’ve had this same conversation a million different times. You complain about how much you like Dean, I tell you to tell him, you say ‘fuck no’ and the cycle repeats. No offense, Cas, but the pining is starting to get a little pathetic.” Gabriel tells him, and while his words are on the other side of too harsh, Castiel knows they’re true. They have had this talk a multitude of times, and every time Gabriel tells him the same thing.

Castiel rubs the bridge of his nose and groans. “I know, Gabe, but he’s straight! And even if he wasn’t, there’s no way he would be interested. He’s given me zero reasons to think he would be.”

“So move the fuck on. Find some hot piece of ass at the bar tomorrow and fuck this out of your system. Remember what mom used to say? The best way to get over someone is to get underneath someone else.”

“I’m pretty sure that was Anna, not mom.”

“Whatever.” Gabriel says with a bite from his triple chocolate fudge cake, “Point being, you need to get laid.”

Their waiter comes back and Gabriel flashes him a smile as he accepts his card and receipt. “Thanks love.”

He waits until the waiter walks away before turning back to Gabriel, “I would, but I don’t even know where to start.”

Gabriel looks up from where he is scribbling something on the front of the receipt. He holds it out and Castiel sees his own phone number scribbled next to a heart.

“You might not, Cassie, but thank God you’ve got me.”

When he gets home, the sun is just starting to set beneath the horizon, and Dean is unsurprisingly sitting out on their too small balcony smoking. Castiel pushes open the sliding glass door and drops into the seat next to Dean’s. Dean’s got a cigarette between his lips and is staring at the sunset. There’s a mostly crumbled pack of Marlboro lights on the table next to him, along with his lucky lighter: a black and white zippo that says, “Get Your Own Fucking Lighter.”

“Can I have a smoke?” Castiel asks, as Dean ashes on the ground next to him.

“Yeah man, you know I only buy lights because you like them too.”

Castiel pulls out a slightly crumpled cigarette and lights it. He takes a deep drag and rolls it between his fingers.

“I didn’t hear you come home last night,” Dean says.

Castiel ashes and shrugs, “You were preoccupied when I came home.” and then against his better judgment, he asks, “Anyone I know?”

“Just some girl named Cassie. I met her through Sam.”

Castiel nods, not knowing why he even bothered to ask and takes another drag. They smoke in relative silence, and Castiel does his best not to look in Dean’s direction. All he can hear is the way Dean had gasped his- Cassie’s name last night. Once his cigarette is down to the filter, Castiel smashes it out on the glass table and tosses it over the side of the balcony.

“I’m heading to bed, night Dean.”

He hears Dean sigh before he says, “Night Cas.”

He falls down, face first, one his bed and lays there until the shrill ringing of his phone forces him up. Castiel paws at it, swiping his finger across the screen and holding it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is this Castiel? It’s Balthazar, from the dinner.”

He sits up in bed at this. “Hey! Yeah, this is him, I mean, yeah I’m Castiel.”

He hears Balthazar chuckle in the phone and he flushes. “I’m glad.” He says, “I was calling to see if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow? My treat.”

Technically, he’s supposed to go to the bar with Dean and their friends, but the thought of seeing Dean there, flirting with some piece of tail, and then coming home and hearing them fuck? He doesn’t want to put up with that.

“Of course! That sounds great, Balthazar.”

He can hear the other man’s smile through the phone. “Great, text me your address and I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Sounds perfect. See you then.”

He hangs up and rolls over, trying desperately not to think about Dean.

When he wakes up the next morning, Dean’s still passed out in his bedroom. The door’s open completely and Castiel gets a whole view of Dean shirtless in low rise sweatpants. He rolls his eyes, it’s like the man was born to tempt him, and leaves before he can do something stupid, like confess his love and propose or something.

Work is boring, as usual, and when Anna comes to get him for lunch, Castiel has never been more grateful that she is technically his boss. They go downtown to a little hole in the wall pizza place, and Castiel orders three slices of sausage and cheesy breadsticks, and Anna gets a salad.

“You seem, I don’t know, different.” Anna says around a mouthful of salad, “Resigned or something.”

“Gabriel finally knocked some sense into me.”

“What could he possibly say that you would consider worth heeding?”

Castiel swallows a mouthful of pizza. “He told me I was being pathetic. Then he quoted mom and told me the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.”

Her fork hits the table. “That was not mom! That was me!”

“Not the point, Anna. He just made me see I was being ridiculous about Dean, and that I should try to get over him. So I’m going to. I’ve actually got a date tonight.”

She gives him a considerate look. “Well, for once, I agree. You deserve someone who’s going to like you back. Good luck tonight. I have to DD for Gabriel and Uriel so have some fun for me.”

“I’ll try.” He’s not convinced though.

It’s just after six when he gets home, and Dean’s sitting in front of the television watching porn. He rolls his eyes at his roommate’s absurdity but drops down on the couch. It is, of course, Busty Asian Beauties, and Castiel isn’t surprised by the eye full he gets.

Dean shoots him a smirk and pauses the television as he turns to face him. Castiel absolutely does not glance at his crotch.

“I was planning on driving tonight. I figured you’d want to be able to drink since you DD’d last weekend.” Dean says like he already knows Castiel is going to come.

“Uh, actually I can’t go tonight. I have a date.”

Dean blinks. “You what?”

God must hate him because Castiel honest to god blushes. “I, uh, I have a date tonight.” He repeats.

Dean’s face goes carefully blank for a second before he plasters on one of those obnoxious false smiles. “No worries, another time then. We were thinking of going out tomorrow too.”  
“Okay.” Castiel smiles at him. “You can resume your porn. I’ve got to get ready.”

He hears Dean scoff, but he doesn’t bother turning around. He takes a quick shower and dresses nice, but still casual, in a button up and one of his less worn pair of jeans.

It’s as he’s leaving, coat thrown over his shoulder, that Dean emerges from the kitchen with a beer in hand.

Castiel waves at him, tosses out a “Don’t wait up,” and shuts the door behind him.

The date is terrible. Balthazar, for being a waiter, is surprisingly rude to their waiter. He snaps his fingers and interrogates him about each dish on the menu. Castiel’s ready to jump out the window twenty minutes after they’re seated. He thinks that, maybe, Balthazar would get along better with Gabriel than him.

He texts Anna a thumbs down emoji, and three minutes later, she calls with a fake medical emergency and he excuses himself from the date. Balthazar is nice enough to offer to pay for his cab, a gesture in which Castiel accepts. After the terrible evening, it’s the least he can do.

Cas deletes Balthazar’s number from his phone the second he shuts the door behind him.

When he gets home, Castiel wants nothing more than to steal one of Dean’s cigarettes and pass the fuck out. He forgets, until he sees the pair of converse by Dean’s boots, that he told him he wouldn’t be back.

He can hear the squeaking of the mattress, much harder and faster this time, and the headboard is almost violently thrusting against the wall. Castiel can hear little gasps and moans, and he rolls his eyes. Like usual, he makes his way towards the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge.

Castiel makes his way towards his room when he hears something that makes him freeze in his tracks.

“God, Dean, you’re so tight.”

Castiel’s face flushes with the force of his arousal, because that, well that was definitely not a woman’s voice. Dean’s door is open, and Castiel rushes past and slams his own bedroom door shut before he can look in or do something equally stupid.  
It, unfortunately, doesn’t mute the sound.

“Come on baby, just like that Dean. God, your ass. Just perfect.”

He lays, face down, in his bed and prays that God puts him out of his misery.

Dean, the roommate that Castiel can’t love because he’s straight, turns out not to be so straight after all.

Fucking shit.

/

Castiel leaves an hour early that next morning so that Dean won’t be awake. He sits through work bored, staring blankly at the memos Uriel sent him, and instant messaging Anna about his failed date. She’s sympathetic, at least he thinks she is, it’s hard to tell over text message if she’s being sarcastic or not, but he’d like to think she understands.

He’s halfway through a new manuscript when his phone vibrates against his desk. He groans at the sight of his group chat.

Gabriel sent a message in Get Litty: y'all we meeting at the Roadhouse @ 9  
Gabriel: u all better be there  
Gabriel: that means you too Cassie

He types out a quick response and watches as more messages flood in.

Cas: I never said I wasn’t coming.  
Gabriel: well u blew us off last night to get blown yourself ;)  
Sam: Too much information.  
Anna: Please, we know Cas didn’t get blown last night. His date sucked and he left halfway through.

He rolls his eyes.

Cas: Do we really need to discuss my love life in the group chat?  
Gabriel: what love life?  
Charlie: What love life?  
Castiel: Fuck off  
Gabriel: someone’s grumpy. what time you go to bed??  
Anna: He was home by 10, so I doubt it was that late.

He swallows at the mention of last night, and then to make it worse, Dean replies.

Dean: You were home by 10?

He slams his phone down on the desk and prays the Earth swallows him whole.

He manages to get through half a manuscript by the time the clock strikes 8, and he reluctantly clocks out. He’s not looking forward to going to the bar, but there’s no way he’s going to get out of it after ditching last night. Castiel drives straight to the Roadhouse, figures he can grab something to eat before he gets drunk enough not to remember his own name.

It’s warm when he enters, a thankful reprieve from the chill, and he sits down at their usual booth in the back and orders a cheeseburger and a beer. Sam and Gabriel are the first to filter in, and then Anna and Charlie. Jo brings Ash over and they all gather around a tray of shots.  
The only person missing from their group is Dean, and Castiel tries not to think too much about it. As if saying his name summoned him, Dean appears, flushed in the doorway. Castiel makes eye contact with him, groans, and downs two shots of tequila in quick succession. Dean walks over, struts actually, and drops down into the booth next to Charlie.

“Sorry I was late, had some shit I had to take care of,” Dean says, and Castiel does another shot for the hell of it.

Dean raises an eyebrow, eyes knowing, and turns to Gabriel. “Looks like I’m behind. Hand me a shot, I’ve got to catch up.”

By the time he finishes his food, the world is spinning on its axis. He watches as Dean goes toe to toe with Sam and Gabriel in an effort to see who can do the most shots.

He stumbles to the bathroom to break the seal and drops by the bar on his way back to get another beer. Cas drops onto one of the stools and orders a Coors from Jo, who flashes him a smile and promises to return with it in a second. He’s staring at the wooden bar when someone slides onto the stool next to him.

“Heya handsome,” The guys says, and Castiel can admit that the man’s cute. “My names Mike, can I buy you a drink?”

He gives what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “I actually just got another one, but you could keep me company if you’d like.”

The guy - Mike - grins and scoots closer. They lapse into a conversation that Castiel drunkenly stumbles through, and the Mike lays a hand on his thigh and Castiel flushes. Just when he’s about to ask Mike to come back with him, he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Dean next to him.

“Scram kid,” Dean says to Mike, unimpressed.

Mike looks confused and Castiel scoffs at the brazen attitude of his roommate. Castiel says nothing, too annoyed to speak, and Mike shrugs before walking away. Dean takes his seat and signals Jo for another beer. Cas rolls his eyes and jabs his knee hard into Dean’s thigh.

“Ouch, what the hell?”

“If you’re going to be like that, at least give me a cigarette,” Castiel says.

Dean hands over a crumpled pack of Marlboro lights and Castiel’s out the back door before he can say anything else. He leans against the back wall, lights a cigarette, and rolls his eyes again. Fuck Dean. Where does he get off being such an asshole? Castiel takes a long drag from his cigarette as the back door opens again. He turns, watches Dean stumble out beside him, and blows the smoke from his lung.

“I’m sorry man,” Dean says.

He shrugs and takes another drag.

Dean grabs the cigarettes from his hand and lights his own. Castiel watches his friend’s face light up as he lights it, and then takes in a deep breath.

“You got home early last night.”

Castiel doesn’t know if he meant it as a question or a statement, so he just hums in agreement.

“Cas.”

He looks over at Dean and the air is pulled from his lungs. The light from the street dances across his eyes and Castiel is struck - once again - by how beautiful he is.

And then Dean’s kissing him. He’s frozen for the first few seconds until his mouth catches up with his brain, and then he drops his cigarette and tangles his fingers in the fabric of Dean’s shirt. He has so many questions - too many questions - but all he can think about is Dean’s soft, full lips pressed against his own.

Dean turns them, shoving Castiel up against the brick wall and drags his lips down the column of his neck. He bites down, hard, and Castiel can’t help the groan that forces its way out of his throat. Dean’s everywhere, his touch, his taste, his smell, and Castiel can’t deal with it. He lines their hips up the best he can and melts when Dean thrusts hard enough to drag his hot heat against the inside of Castiel’s thigh.

He fucks his tongue into Dean’s mouth, much like he wishes he was doing with something else, and groans when Dean slips a hand, chilly from the air, into the front of his pants. And as much as Castiel would kill to have Dean’s hand on his dick, he really would rather do this in a bed.

He rips his mouth away from Dean’s and groans at the feeling of his roommate’s fingers curling around his dick.  
“Wait, wait, Dean, hold up.”

Dean leans forward to nuzzle the spot below Castiel’s ear, “Yeah baby?”

God, he feels so good. Every inch of his skin is on fire.

“Please take me home, D. God, want you to fuck me, but not here. Want you to bend me over in bed and fuck me so hard I can’t walk.”

“Fuck Cas,” Dean groans.

“Please Dean, please. I need to feel you.”

Dean nods, fingers intertwining with Cas’ own, “Yeah baby, let’s go.”

He doesn’t remember much after that besides Dean’s lips on his neck, being pushed against the door, and the slick sweet feeling of bliss.

When he wakes up the next morning, sunlight is shining in his face and Castiel squints his eyes shut. It’s too bright, considering the amount of alcohol he drank last night. He rolls over onto his back, stretching his sore limbs, and blinking his eyes open.

It takes a second, but then Castiel freezes.

This is not his room.

He turns on his side and groans at the sight of his roommate - man-whore extraordinaire - Dean with his face pressed up against the pillow. His hair is mused and he’s shirtless, and considering Castiel’s own state of dress, Cas figures he’s a lot more than just shirtless.

Shit.

He leans over and opens Dean’s nightstand, thankful for the pack of Marlboro lights that are stashed there. Castiel pulls one out and steals Dean’s lighter. He grabs yesterday’s boxers from the floor and sneaks out on the balcony to light his cigarette. Castiel takes a long drag and checks his messages.

Anna: Don’t forget brunch today.

Gabriel: yooo man how u feeling? u and dean left pretty early last night.  
Gabriel: anna says 2 tell u that we r meeting @ Giuvinci’s at 10

The time is 9:30 and it takes a good 25 minutes to get there, so a shower is out of the question. He takes one more drag from the cigarette and the smashes it out in the bottom of a coke bottle (Dean’s improvisational idea for an ashtray) and heads to his room. He changes into a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt (It’s got ACDC printed on the back of it, so he’s pretty sure it’s Deans), and heads out to meet his siblings.

Giuvinci’s smells like coffee and syrup and Castiel’s stomach growls as soon as he walks in. Anna and Gabriel are at a booth in the back and he reluctantly makes his way over to their booth, before dropping into the seat across from them.

“You slept with Dean?” Gabriel says around a mouthful of pancakes. From the looks of them, they’re covered in syrup and every kind of candy known to man.

“We ordered for you,” Anna says after sending a glare towards their older brother, and she pushes a plate of eggs and toast towards him.

Castiel takes a bite before turning back to Gabriel. “Why do you think I slept with Dean?”

“You literally reek of sex. Sex hair, your neck looks like you’ve been mauled by a bear, your shirt says ACDC, and you look way too happy. Besides, you left yesterday with Dean after he was practically eye fucking you at the bar. It’s not too much of a stretch.”

Castiel says nothing.

Anna looks up from where she’s cutting her omelet. “Did you sleep with Dean, Castiel?”

He flushes, God help him, and nods. “Yeah, we did- I, uh, did.”

She sits her fork and knife down and looks at him expectantly. Gabriel, on the other hand, smirks and takes another bite of his diabetes inducing pancakes.

“We were drunk, it doesn’t mean anything.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been pining after him forever and now you’re saying sex with Dean Winchester didn’t mean anything?”

“Did you at least talk to Dean-o about all this?”

“No,” Castiel replies, “Not yet, at least. I kinda rushed out this morning.”

“Well before you start saying it doesn’t mean anything, talk to him.”

Castiel looks at his sister, the silver wedding ring shining off her ring finger, and figures - this time at least - she knows what she’s talking about.

He gets back home just after noon, and Dean’s on the couch. He’s obviously showered, his hair still clings to the back of his neck, and he’s watching some horrible doctor procedural. Castiel drops down onto the recliner and waits for Dean to say something. To greet him or make a joke about last night. He doesn’t though, and they sit in silence until Castiel clears his throat twice.

“Cas, about last night.”

He can hear the beginnings of a brush off, and he really does not want to same talk Dean gives all his five-minute flings, so Castiel rushes to interrupt him before he can finish.

“Relax Dean. It was a drunken mistake, I’m not going to propose or something.”

He thinks he sees a flash of hurt in Dean’s eyes, but it’s gone too quickly for him to really be sure. His roommate turns back to the television and nods. “Yeah man, good.”

Dean excuses himself a moment later to go smoke, and Castiel changes the channel.

He doesn’t see Dean for the rest of the day, which given his penchant for lazy Sundays on the couch, is surprising. He tries not to think too much into it, passes it off as lingering awkwardness, and crashes into his bed before eleven.

He doesn’t work that Monday, thankfully, and takes the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep. It’s past noon when Castiel finally drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen. He makes a pot of coffee and pads back to his room, freezing just before he reaches Dean’s. Castiel backtracks and looks into the living room. He blinks and takes a moment to ensure he’s not losing his mind.

He clears his throat and watches as Dean disengages himself from some random guy’s mouth. He pulls away to smile at Castiel and gesture to the man next to him.

“Aaron, this is Castiel. Castiel, my boyfriend, Aaron.”

His jaw twitches. “Your boyfriend?”

Dean nods and his hand lingers on Aaron’s bicep. Castiel is definitely not jealous.

He gives Dean the best smile he can muster and turns to Aaron. “Nice to meet you.”

To Castiel’s horror, Aaron is there throughout the week. Whenever he leaves for work, gets home from work, goes to get something to eat, or sits on the couch to watch TV: Aaron is there.

He’s never been more thankful for Thirsty Thursdays, which turns out to be even worse than Castiel expected because Dean brings fucking Aaron.

Castiel spends the first hour putting up with everyone fawning over Aaron before he politely excuses himself and heads to the bar. He brushes off Charlie when she comes to check on him, and orders five shots of tequila and two of jack.

He downs them in quick succession and orders a beer.

By the time he finishes his beer, the world is spinning. He’s drunker than he was last weekend, and he stumbles off his chair as he tries to stand up. Fuck, he’s drunk. He sees Aaron, curled in the booth next to Jo, and realizes how badly he wants to be anywhere but here.

Castiel stumbles, again, and a hand wraps around his waist. “Easy there, tiger.”

“Dean.” He slurs.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

They leave, without Aaron, and Castiel uses the opportunity to curl up next to Dean. He drops his head onto Dean’s lap and hums as the man threads his fingers through Cas’ hair. It’s nice and soothing, and Castiel thinks he could stay here forever. 

When they get to the apartment, Dean helps him out of the car and inside. He’s gentle, hands soft and kind on Castiel’s shoulder as he guides him. Once inside the door, Castiel turns and pushes Dean up against the wall. He leans forward and presses a kiss to his roommate's lips. Dean pulls away and holds his hands up.

“Cas, no.”

He flushes, embarrassed, at being turned down. “Please Dean, I’ll make it so good for you.”

“Cas, buddy, you’re too drunk to do anything but go to sleep.”

He’s so exhausted. Tired of avoiding Aaron and his feelings and Dean. He can feel tears well behind his eyes at his desperation. “Please, I just want you to love me back.”

And he’s going to regret that one in the morning.

Dean’s eyes widen, just a fraction, and he ushers Castiel past the kitchen and into his own room. Castiel wonders why Dean wouldn’t make him sleep in his own bed, but decides not to push it. He likes Dean’s bed better anyways.

He stretches out, breathing in the smell of Dean’s shampoo and sighs.

“Get some sleep, Cas. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

/

Castiel cracks his eyes open and regrets everything. He’s horrified. Not only did he get drunk and make a fool out of himself, but he honest to God confessed his feelings to Dean last night. He buries his face in the pillow and yells.

He finds Dean outside on the balcony a few minutes later. Dean’s got a cigarette between his lips and is only wearing a pair of sweatpants. Castiel sits next to him, and Dean holds out the pack.

“No thanks,” Cas says. The thought of a cigarette alone is almost enough to make him sick. Too much booze.

Dean shrugs and ashes his cigarette next to his feet. 

“Listen, about last night, I am so sorry.”

“You can’t keep doing this shit. You can’t say having sex with me was a mistake and then get jealous and act like a little shit.” Dean snaps, “You need to get your shit together, or get out because I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what Dean?”

“Please don’t make me spell it out, babe.” He smashes his cigarette out into the ‘ashtray’ and turns to look at him. “I switched cigarettes for you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“It depends on what you think I’m saying.”

“But what about Aaron?” Castiel asks, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that Dean might actually have feelings for him.

Dean shrugs, “Wanted to make you jealous.”

“Oh.”

Another shrug. “Do you want a cigarette now?”

He thinks that Dean isn’t really asking if he wants a cigarette. He’s asking for a million different things, none of which either of them are ready to name yet.

“Yeah Dean,” Castiel says, as he looks out at the morning sunrise, “I’d love one.”

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Say hello on my Tumblr: lasciviouspeach


End file.
